Wind
by RatherDashing
Summary: Back together after so many years, Sam and Dean look through their father’s journal for clues but get way more than they bargained for when they pursue a strange demon.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Wind  
Author: Rather Dashing  
Rating: PG-13 for maybe some violence and language. The first chapter is a rough PG though, so no worries.  
Disclaimer: Not my characters.  
Pairing: None – straight up general.   
Warning: Not that I can think of.  
Spoilers: Uh, Well, anything in the pilot is fair game.  
Summary: Back together after so many years, Sam and Dean look through their father's journal for any clues and come across an interesting demon, but what they get is a lot more than they bargained for.

_Wind – Chapter One: Chimes_

Sam stole a quick glance at his older brother. It had almost been twelve hours now on the road and he had to admit that he was exhausted; the only problem was that Dean would have nothing of it. They both sat in rough silence, listening intently to the sounds of their surroundings. Sam's mind was beginning to fog, he was slightly aware that his head was tipping. Of course falling asleep behind the wheel wasn't on his to-do list, nor was killing his only brother in a fiery car crash, but he couldn't help it. He was just about to nod off when a harsh voice pierced into his heavy mind.

"Turn here," Dean ordered, sitting up in his seat and pointing to the next left turn. Sam's head shot up and he blinked furiously to wipe away any remnants of the sleep that he almost fell into and took the turn with ease. Dean sat back, apparently satisfied with his job and once again the silence came. Sam was a little frightened now. Maybe if he rallied his older brother into an enthusiastic conversation, he would be able to stay awake. It was worth a shot, but he hadn't seen Dean in so long that he was just now coming to realize that he didn't know him anymore.

Sure, Dean was still obnoxious, rowdy, and a goof-ball, but what Sam didn't know was what had been going on in his life up until now. He thought about venturing into that territory. Surely Dean's voice would keep him awake. Hopefully.

"So how have you been?" He asked, trying to sound interested. Dean cast a look over and broke into a grin.

"You're falling asleep aren't you?" Dean said mischievously. Sam looked away and cursed himself. His brother could read him like a book – how could he have forgotten that? "It's okay." He assured. "I understand. You're just not used to driving my wonderful car."

"What I am not used to is not sleeping. You're car is like all the other cars." Sam shot back. Sometimes it annoyed him how much Dean cared about the car.

"We're almost there. The fresh air will wake you up."

"If I don't kill us both before-"

"Here it is. Pull in here." Dean interrupted, gesturing frantically to the right. They had veered off the main road hours ago and now came upon a small opening in a large wooded area. He pulled in, killed the engine, and stiffly maneuvered himself out of the car. It felt weird to stand after all of that time, like his legs had forgotten how to work.

A chilly breeze messed up his hair and made him wrap his arms around himself. He could hear a wind chime somewhere, but he didn't see any houses. Dean brushed passed him, taking the keys and opening the trunk.

"Uh, you never told me what we're doing." Sam said, joining him in the back. The way his feet crunched on the gravel made him shiver. Dean looked up and glared at him.

"We're looking for dad," He answered dumbly, then returned to packing the bags.

"Yeah, but why here?" Sam tried again. He always hated when Dean made things difficult.

"'Cause of this," Dean said, pulling their father's journal out and plopping in onto the top of the car. The page it was opened to showed a shadowy looking demon, its eyes the only thing colored and its claws stretching to the bottom of the page. It hardly had as much information as the rest of their father's records.

"You think dad is uh," Sam stopped, trying to find a good way to put it, but stopped his thinking and quickly changed tactics. "He's not here."

"Yeah, but that thing is." Dean pointed messily at the paper and smiled from ear to ear. "Might as well get some information while we're here." Sam sighed, knowing it was best not to argue. Maybe it wouldn't take nearly as long as their other adventures and he could head out to get something to eat and then sleep – forever. "Come on." Dean said, thrusting a heavy bag into his arms.

They headed at an even pace into the wilderness, but Sam couldn't help but worry. Even though Dean was there, he felt terribly alone on this one. The graying skies looked old, too old to give rain, but not young enough to give sun. It unnerved him that their father hadn't found out that much about this one. The only thing written in the journal was a sloppy description and a location. There was also a small map with a lake in the middle. It was circled three times.

The leaves were loud under his feet, making it nearly impossible to walk silently  
"Do you hear that?" Dean asked from a few feet in front of him. Sam listened closely and assumed he was talking about the wind chime that was definitely getting steadily louder.

"Yeah, I've heard it since we pulled in," He answered, repositioning the bag on his shoulder. Dean looked back, lifting his eyebrows.

"I didn't," He said and looked back again. "Check the journal." Sam did as he was told, though he knew he wouldn't see anything more than "Gorman Forest, Lake Gorman, pos." Sam looked at the three letters. They were smeared terribly, making it almost impossible to read, but he assumed it meant position.

"Nothing. Don't you find it strange that dad barely has anything written down for this one? Maybe that is a sign for us to, you know, not be here. " Sam whined. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing. Dean scoffed from ahead, not really realizing how much faster he was going. They were almost fifteen feet away from each other and Sam was getting worried. He tried speeding up, but it only made him trip on the thick underbrush. He sighed, admitting defeat. "Hey, Dean, can you-" Before he could finish, something streaked past him. It was large but so fast that he only saw a shadow. It hit into his leg and he stumbled to the ground. The wind chime he had been hearing since they got out of the car ceased even though the wind still blew. Dean turned around and looked down.

"You okay?" He asked. Sam winced as he stood.

"Didn't you see that?" He looked around and slowly made his way to Dean who had finally stopped.

"You tripped, I understand. You don't have to make things up." His older brother stated as if he was sparing him of some great embarrassment. Sam chose to leave it alone and vowed to this time keep up with Dean, no matter how obnoxious he was. Ten minutes passed before the wind chime started up, though this time it was again faint and distant. He chose to ignore it, but lifted their father's journal and wrote in the margin: "Wind Chimes." It obviously meant something, even if they weren't sure what.

It didn't take much longer for them to reach the lake. It was really low, revealing a long stretch of dried sand that led into its swampy-green water. Sam could only imagine what was in there.

"Guess we'll stop here for a bit," Dean stated, dropping his bag. Sam watched him dig through it until he found a knife and then approach the water. "Why don't you get us some fire wood there, Sammy?" Sam looked away.

"Yeah, sure." He said dejectedly. He hated it when Dean called him "Sammy." He wasn't four! But Dean had always called him that – always. He didn't waste any time in moving and quickly wandered into the woods for some wood. He had about as much as he could carry when he finally broke back into the clearing at the lake. He dropped the wood near Dean's bag and looked around for his brother.

He couldn't imagine what Dean had left to go do. It wasn't like him to wander off like that.

"Dean?" he called out and felt his heart speed up when he realized how loud the wind chime noise was getting. "Dean?" he shouted more frantically. His breathing was loud in his ears and every crack of sticks or creak of a tree made him jump. Something touched his back causing a coldness to spread there like illness. He leapt forward, but whatever it was gripped his shoulders and forced him to the ground.

He was shaking on his knees now, so violently that the world in front of him looked as if it were jumping up and down. The thing behind him tightened its painful grip and then leaned forward. Sam couldn't describe it, not even if he really wanted to. Every time he thought he knew what its blackened face looked like, it twisted and morphed into something else. Its breath was not hot but incredibly cold against his neck, making his skin sting.

It moved its mouth, but the only thing he heard were wind chimes and hushed whispers. They filled his mind until he was sure it was going to burst from the noise. It made him dizzy and he pitched forward. Sam never felt the ground hit into him. 

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Alright. I have most of the next chapter written; I just thought that a little suspense was in order. Sorry peoples. This story will be roughly three chapters and an epilogue, I think. Don't hold me to that. I have the ending all planned out and it's just a matter of writing. Feedback is welcome! Oh, and I'm sorry if I messed up and spelled "sam" - "same" I'm not sure why but I kept messing that one up. Oh, and the next chapters will be a lot longer! No worries on that.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I will shape and mold their behavior, but that does not make them mine. 

Wow, thank you guys so much for the reviews! I wasn't sure a lot of people would like it. Well, here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and sorry for any spelling errors.

_Wind – Chapter Two: Our Guardian_

Dean turned and watched as his little brother bravely headed into the woods to collect fire wood. It confused him that Sammy stopped challenging him. They used to fight about everything and the old Sam would definitely not have gone to get the fire wood without an argument about what Dean would be doing while he was gone. He sighed, not exactly sure if he liked the change.

He looked to the other side of the lake and thought. He might as well get some wood too, just in case. He walked over and ventured into the woods. It surprised him how little dry wood there was, most everything was soaked, though he didn't remember it raining. Shrugging, he headed further in. Five minutes in he found some particularly dry sticks and began piling them into his arms. He could faintly here those wind chimes but he blocked it out.

It seemed like something his father would remember to write about, but of course there wasn't any information on this thing anyway. Maybe it was a bad idea. Dean looked down, realizing that they had no idea how to kill it. What if it actually showed up? He looked back, suddenly feeling watched.

"Dean?" It was Sam, but his voice sounded so far away. Dean dropped all the sticks he had collected and began to run back to the lake only to find something wrapped around his ankle. It jerked him roughly causing his balance to slip and him to fall to his knees. His hands, that had shot out to break his fall, where the next to go as two sets of thick-thorny roots slid out of the ground and wrapped around them. Dean gasped, trying to hold back the pain as the thorns pushed into his skin.

He wanted to get to Sam, but any movement he made just dug the thorns deeper.

"Sammy!" He called out in desperation. Maybe his brother was okay, maybe he was just lost. The wind chimes stopped - an abrupt halt to something that he was just growing used to. In its place was an eerie quiet; no birds or bugs, nothing. Dean pulled lightly at his bounds but it gave no slack, he was stuck. If only he could get the knife out of his pocket, but the roots were holding him too tight to the ground for something like that.

The dead leaves around him shook and moved even though there was no wind. They danced around him and swirled until, in the midst of it, a woman's silhouette appeared. She stepped out of the torrent and looked down at him. Her face was small and frail looking. There were wrinkles under here eyes, but despite her eerie entrance, she looked as gentle as his grandmother the day she died.

"I was just leaving," Dean tried. Maybe she's let him off with a slap on the wrist. Maybe less than what she might have done to his brother whose pained cry was still ringing in his ears.

"NO!" She screeched, her wrinkly face scrunching up in anger. "You've caused me too much grief already, scum!" The wind around them picked up causing more leaves to rain down. Nature. Dean could've hit himself for not realizing sooner what they were dealing with. The wind chimes.

"You're the forest guardian." He said calmly, knowing she wouldn't hurt him unless provoked, though it stuck him as odd that she would be doing this in the first place.

His father had explained it to him a long time ago; when he was just a little boy. 

_"Each forest has a guardian, Dean. Did you know that? Well it's true. When the forests were young and new, each got its own protective spirit, just as young and resilient as themselves. But you know that mankind has been chopping down the trees and ruining the forests. Such destruction was new to the guardians, they were unsure of how to handle the situation which resulted in the death of many wooded areas."_

"But won't they hurt us for being here." He could almost hear his father's chuckle.

_"No, son. They are gentle and piece loving. They love to have friendly visitors."_

"Don't play dumb with me!" She called out, her raggedy white dress shifting with the wind that she was creating. "You've known what I was the second you set foot in my forest and if you don't tell your men to leave I will kill you all!" Dean blinked, confused. There must be more people here.

"No, listen. You've got the wrong person! I'm not here to do anything bad; in fact, I just got here with my brother a little while ago." He reasoned, craning his neck to look at her. 

"LIES!" She screamed, darkness falling on them. "I will not fall for it and I will not let you hurt my charge!" She threw her arm out and glared at him. Suddenly the roots that held him to the ground dug deeper in him, breaking the skin and pulling his hands into the ground.

"I'm not lying! You're killing the wrong person!" Dean gasped as the roots around his ankles began to tighten also. "Please! I'm not here to hurt you or the forest! You have to believe me!"

"Why should I? I've given you so much of my time and patience and I won't deal with it any longer! It's either you go back to your camp and take down the shield or I'll…" She paused as if considering the situation before her. The roots loosened as her concentration went to another place, another time. "I'll kill them."

"Going to have to tell me who "them" is and plus I don't know what you're talking about." Dean said, trying to get the roots loose enough so he could get free. "Maybe if you could tell me what is going on I could help you."

"Why should I trust you?" She asked, though as she spoke the roots shriveled away and disappeared. She knew he wasn't lying.

"I think you know I'm not here to hurt the forest and-" Dean began, but before he could finish she interrupted.

"No! They're not here to hurt the forest," She looked down and sighed. Her weariness was more prominent. It's either the forest was really old, or it was dying. "They're here for me. They won't leave and I can't get rid of them."

"Why don't you just pull some of that nature-y stuff you were doing to me?" He asked, getting to his feet and brushing off his jeans. They were his best pair too.

"I've tried but they know what they're doing. They have some sort of barrier. I'm not sure what it is, but I can't pass it, nothing can." She looked up, ghostly pale-blue eyes focusing on his face. Dean would give anything to just leave; to go find his brother but he didn't want to anger her. After all, she did almost kill him.

"I'll help you," He said, stealing a glance behind her. "But first I need to find my brother. He was by the lake." He didn't want to give her too much information.

"Go; I will keep a watchful eye on you. If you try anything funny I'll," Her face contorted in thought and when she caught Dean's grin she glared. "I'll hurt you!" Wanting to get the last word in, she vanished with a small huff.

Once she was gone, Dean ran as fast as he could back to the lake. It seemed like forever in his mind before he burst through the trees to the dirty lake bed. A heavy fog that he was sure hadn't been there before settled over the land and made it hard to see – hard to breath.

He squinted and scanned the area for anything or anyone. His landed on a small crumpled figure on the ground. His heart leaping into his throat, Dean raced across, not caring if he was walking in the slime covered water. When he reached his brother, he collapsed next to him and lifted his hands up not sure what to do.

Sam was lying on his stomach, his hands twisted outward in front of him with the side of his face pressed into the sand. Each breath his brother took made him shake. Dean laid a hand on Sam's back and gasped. It was as cold as ice. The forest guardian couldn't have done it, could she? She was capable of controlling the temperature, but the air around them was not as cold as Sam. There was no way.

Another violent shake sprung him into action.

"Sammy?" He asked, trying to be quiet even though he wanted his brother to wake. Dean brought his other hand up and pressed it against Sam's cheek; it was freezing also, giving him the feel of a corpse. "Sam," He tried again, remembering for once how much his brother hated the nickname Sammy.

Dean rolled him over and took his own jacket off to cover Sam hoping that what little heat he had would rub off. What had happened? Just ten minutes ago Sam was fine. Maybe the men that the spirit was talking about attacked him, but why would they leave him there and Sam didn't have a scratch on him.

"Sam," He tried one final time, but this time it prompted an immediate response. Sam's eyes flew open and he gasped for air as if he hadn't taken a breath in hours. He sat up quickly, causing Dean's jacket to fall off, and turned to the side as he lapsed into a coughing fit. "Easy," Dean whispered gently, laying his hand on Sam's back.

When his brother showed no signs of stopping, Dean looked to their bags to see if he brought water only to find them gone. He did a quick sweep of their surroundings to make sure that he hadn't put them somewhere else. No, they were gone – stolen. By the time he made this assessment, Sam was beginning to find some composure. He turned and sat up straighter, taking deep breath that still made him shiver.

"What happened?" Dean asked, trying to sound gentle but failing. He was never good at playing "the concerned brother."

"I don't know," Sam said wrapping his arms around himself. "I mean, I don't remember." He was obviously out of it; and Dean really didn't want to have to explain the whole forest guardian thing to him. He knew he had to though.

"Listen, I had a run in with uh," The words caught Sam's attention quickly. It unnerved him how much Sammy cared for him. They didn't show their love but Dean was positive that his brother would do anything for him. Anything. "The forest guardian. She says that there are people here that want her dead and I sorta' agreed to help her."

"We'll never find Dad," Sam said, looking down with a sigh. At least he was recovering.

"That's not true. We will, but we just have to make a few stops along the way. That's all. Now come on, we have to get back to where she was." Dean stood up and offered a hand to Sam, but his younger brother stubbornly refused it. He shrugged, not really in the mood for a fight and led the way back to the clearing. 

They were almost there when Sam tapped him on the back and handed him his jacket.

"You sure?" Dean asked, not entirely confident that Sam was okay just yet.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, and fell back into an even step, letting Dean lead the way. Dean slid his jacket back on and let his mind wander to his brother.

Sam had changed so much. Not just from the time he was in college but more like his entire life. Dean couldn't help but wonder how Sam would've turned out if he had a different family – a different life.

A shuffle in front of him pulled him from his thoughts. A deer about 30 feet away was grazing and slowly walking. Apparently it hadn't seen them yet. Sam bumped into him and looked up.

"This the place?" He asked, looking at the deer and then looking at Dean.

"Nah, I was just looking at the deer." Dean admitted, not sure why he was embarrassed.

He always remembered when they were little and their father would take them on "hunting" trips. Sam was so fascinated by the deer.

_Look, look! _He would cry over and over until someone acknowledged him. Whether it be a rough grunt from their father or Dean turning and looking, Sam would never give up. _Dean, Dean! Look at the dogs! They're so big. _He recalled Sam saying on his first trip.

_They're not dogs, Sam. _Their father had said, not taking his eyes off the road.

_Yeah, Sammy. They're deer. _He could still see Sam's awe-stricken eyes glaze over in thought as he pressed himself into the glass to get a better look. Sometimes he missed that Sam - the one that didn't know about all of the bad things in the world; the one that hadn't experienced half of them.

Sam had cried on his first trip. Sure, they had prepared him with loads of information and pictures, but seeing was just too much for him. What surprised him was that when his little brother was freaking out as the beast stalked towards them, instead of running to their dad, he had run to Dean. It had shocked him and kept him up at night more than any monster would.

They both looked at the deer until it finally noticed them and leapt through the thick weeds.

They arrived at the place a few minutes later and Dean leaned against a tree.

"Is it coming?" Sam asked looking around.

"I think so. We might have to wait a little bit though." They sat in silence, listening to the trees creaking around them until Sam walked over to the tree and looked at Dean.

"There's something here." He said cryptically.

"Duh, camp of people; forest guardian."

"No, something else. Dad wrote about something in his journal and it was not the forest spirit. We know about those and we don't hunt them. I think it was whatever attacked me." Sam said, sliding to a sitting position. Dean did the same.

"Do you remember what happened?" He asked, wanting some kind of clue as to what they were dealing with besides humans. 

"Not much. Just that it was really cold," Sam said solemnly. "Something touched me, on my shoulder I think." He added in. Dean didn't respond. He couldn't think of anything to say. The only thing that went through his mind was how grateful he was that whatever it was hadn't killed his brother. But why? It must have had the perfect chance.

A rush of wind blew through the leaves and the guardian appeared. She didn't say anything about Sam and Dean could tell she was strictly business now. 

"Follow me,"

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Oh man, this is going to be a wee bit longer than I originally anticipated. Sorry. I hope everyone liked this chapter and I am sorry for the delay on it!


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